


Lulled With Dances and Delight

by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf



Series: A Poem Lovely As A Tree [4]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Boys In Love, Faerie Wine Is Great Stuff, It's Jacob Stone, Jacob and His Flower Powers, Kissing, M/M, Of Course There's Shakespeare, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 05:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17760914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf
Summary: For all that the job sometimes sucks, being a Librarian does have it's perks every now and again. The parties, for example.





	Lulled With Dances and Delight

Despite the constant peril, the frequent close-calls, and the possibility of death and dismemberment, being a Librarian sure did pay off every now and again. 

For example, the parties are absolutely _bonkers._

Ezekiel can’t pronounce the faerie’s name for the life of him (it’s something old and Irish, so it looks like a handful of letters from the bottom of a Scrabble bag), but she’s apparently a big deal in the Seelie Court. And as gift for them rescuing her, she’s thrown them a party, or rather, a ‘revel’ in a forest grove. Jenkins had told them to be sure they didn’t eat anything, but the booze was fair game. Ezekiel likes their booze. He can’t pronounce it either (more Scrabble) but Cassandra’s been calling it sparkly wine. It’s damn good, and it makes his head feel light and very far from his feet, and his whole body is full of a nice tingly warmth.

The grove is lit by hovering balls of light that change hues, and there’s music being played by fauns. Ezekiel dances with the faeries, changing partners. At one point he’s spinning around with Cassandra; her laughter is the silvered notes of wind chimes in his ears. The next turn, and she’s spun away into the arms of a flower-bedecked faerie that doesn’t bend the grass where she walks. He’s almost certain that he even gets in a dance with Eve at some point, though he would never promise it. He likes his face just the way it is, thank you very much.

And then Jacob’s in his arms, and Ezekiel is certain his night can’t get any better than this. His lover is flushed with wine, azure eyes gleaming. The multihued lights over their heads bring out the green in his hair, and his skin smells like ripe apples and rich earth. And when Jacob kisses him, he tastes of laughter and marzipan.

Between the next song and another glass of sparkly wine, he manages to lose track of Jacob. He glances around the grove, then sees the back of a plaid shirt heading away between the trees, away from the party. Grabbing another glass of wine, he heads after Jacob, weaving a little bit.

The sparkly wine makes everything seem brighter than it should be, and he feels like if he jumps high enough, he could just float on away. He spies Jacob, lying between two trees on a grassy bank, near a glittering thread of water winding its way through the forest with a silky murmur.

“Hey-a, hippie, what are you doing?” Ezekiel asks.

“Ah, just…just catching my breath,” Jacob replies, smiling up at him; it makes Ezekiel feel even floatier than he does now; oh, man, he’s a goner. “C’mon down, babe, there’s plenty of grass.”

Ezekiel manages to get down on the grass without spilling either glass, and he hands one over to Jacob once he manages to lay back against the grass. He’s not sure if it’s because they’re on faerie land or if it’s just because of the sparkly wine, but the crushed grass under them smells positively _heavenly,_ like some kind of lovely perfume. He almost wants to roll around on it, like its catnip or something.

“It’s so pretty,” Jacob mumbles.

“Mmm, sure is.” The stars are so bright and there’s so many more colours than usual. He’s pretty sure that if he squints a little, he can see the shapes of galaxies. Wow, this wine is _killer_ stuff. He wonders if Scrabble-Letter-Faerie-Girl will sell him a bottle or two. He turns his head to look at Jacob, and the historian is staring at him, flushed and warm, eyes half-lidded.

“I love you.”

Ezekiel forgets how to breathe for a second because it feels like his heart is trying to float right on out of his chest and his lungs don’t quite have enough room to work. A few thumping heartbeats, and the silly red muscle decides to get back in its right place, and he can get a breath in again. “Jacob…”

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“I love you, too.” The words jump from his mouth without permission, but it feels so good to say it that it almost hurts. He reaches out and lays one hand against Jacob’s rough-stubbled cheek. “I love you.”

Jacob stares at him for a moment, but then his smile is like seeing a sunrise for the first time.

Sparkly wine spills over the grass as Jacob rolls towards him, pulling him close and kissing him. Ezekiel flings both arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. He feels more than he hears Jacob moan against his mouth, and Ezekiel can _taste_ his power as it surges through his blood. Flowers burst through the grass around them, yellow and purple and pink, and vines twine through the tree limbs overhead, more pink and white flowers blooming through them. Jacob’s magic tastes like sunlight and everything green and growing in the world, better than any sparkly wine or history or gold or heist. They kiss again and again, the scent of crushed crass and wild thyme and wine filling the air.

When they finally break for air again, Ezekiel runs his fingers back through Jacob’s hair. “I love you,” he says again, and the words are honey in his mouth, thick and sweet and golden.

“I love you.” Jacob draws him into another kiss.

The night dissolves into the taste of honey and the scent of flowers.

 

Ezekiel wakes up in gradual degrees, aware of late morning sunlight slanting warmth across his back. He hears Jacob’s soft little snores beside him, and he knows that they’re in his bed by the silk sheets pressed to his cheek; his pillow is somehow AWOL. 

He can still taste sparkly wine in the back of his mouth. For a moment, he’s not sure just how much of last night actually happened and how much of it was just some kind of dream. He’s had some pretty wacky dreams when he’s gotten wasted before. 

With an indistinct mumble, Jacob rolls over and throws one arm over Ezekiel’s back and one heavy leg over his thighs. Ezekiel smiles then, closing his eyes once more.

The smell of crushed grass and wild thyme still clings to their clothing.


End file.
